Metro 2033: Empire
by Iconoclaust
Summary: This is an original piece written in the Metro 2033 Universe, it's technically fanfiction but the other Universe novels are all in Russian and I thought it'd be cool to start one over in the states. Taking place in NYC, we'll see what the Metro in the Empire has in store.


"NEW YORK CITY is the WORSE defensible location for a nuclear warhead strike," bellowed Chekov like it didn't matter anyway. "I'm just saying I can't believe how this whole city isn't one huge crater right now!"

"Give it a few years," Leto chucked his filter into the watch fire, "few more years and the foundations will give out above. It's already eroded to all hell by water seepage as is."

"_Tyah-tyah_. That's what they said ten years ago, and 82nd Street is still standing even under eight feet of water! A bloody miracle I'm saying, and I thought God didn't live in the Empire."

"Trust me, if God doesn't live somewhere between 5th and Park then he ain't here—"

A scuttle like pebbles broke their banter and Nikkoll Pepaj leapt to the barricade aiming his rifle into the tunnel.

"Halt! Who goes there!"

The other two men rushed to the turret, one manning the nest and the other the searchlight, hands ready on handles twitchy and nervous. Nikkoll stared out into the darkness and the darkness seemed to stare back, answering in scuttling scratches like a boot sole scraping gravel, getting closer.

Then it stopped, and quickened as if running in reverse.

"Stop!" yelled Nikkoll flipping his safety, but the other two men had already slackened.

"Oh forget it Nikola, some bum with no ID. Save the bullet."

Leto cocked an eye at his companion. "And how do you know it was just a bum? Bums don't wear combat boots!"

"Well neither do Dustmen, so relax already you're scaring the kid. Aye Nicky if you want to go run out to the six-hundred line after him you're more than welcome to."

But Nikkoll's hair stood up on the back of his neck at the suggestion, so much so that he still peered out into the scope of his AR-15, scanning the sleek tunnel walls for any sign of movement. The subway stretched straight into darkness at the five hundred yard line where they were at, then forked slightly toward the six hundred line, plunging into total abyss. There was no patrol at the six hundred line, they hadn't staged a patrol there for many years. No one could tell him why.

The two men had returned to the small watch fire which flickered off their unshaven faces in the gloom of some godforsaken Amtrak tunnel. Nikkoll finally lowered his weapon against the confident banter of his sentry partners. They had more years' experience put together than he had years of his life, so in theory if they were calm then he had nothing to worry about...in theory.

Suddenly, the slight beam of a flashlight pierced the distant dark, and Nikkoll's eyes were straight back in his sights.

"Halt!" he yelled again, but this time a reply came.

"Ahoy! Who's up there?"

"Password!" Nikkoll flipped the safety once more, but Chekov had already climbed up on the barricade waving a hand-lantern three times. The beam far off in the distance went dark for a split second, then light again, then dark again once more. The password in signal form.

"It's easier to signal than shout Nikola," said Chekov. "It's friendlier too, not good to make people nervous in this claustrophobic rat-hole." He climbed down off the barricade and moved the wooden construction horse aside so he could get past the razor wire. The flashlight beam drew closer illuminating three bodies in brown duster coats and gas masks. They seemed to recognize Chekov though and threw him a two-finger salute in friendship as they approached. He waved in greeting.

"Armin! How's it going?"

"It's going," Armin sighed seemingly exhausted as he shook Chekov's hand. "Mateo's patrol found a body by Canal Street. Dog tags."

"Hot damn. They're dropping like flies, at this point it's sabotage."

"Don't say such things Sergei! Lemme in already I'm beat."

"Come sit with us. Aye Nicky, you can come down now. Leto will sit up for a while." With that everyone gathered around the doldrum that served as a watch fire while the razor wire fence was replaced and the guard was changed. Nikkoll passed the AR-15 off to Leto as he climbed off the rubbish heap that served as a barricade, but did not give him his spare clip. Everyone kept their own ammo like it was gold, everyone collected magazines and any ammunition they could get their hands on, even if they had no gun to use it for.

Chekov took out a hand-rolled cigarette from his pocket and handed it to Armin. "What news from the LES?"

Armin took the hand-roll and held it over Chekov's lighter appreciatively. Then he took a rolled sheaf of brown paper from his coat containing strips of jerky, and passed one to Chekov. A good trade.

"It's quiet. All gone completely quiet. Like something stirred up a lot of dirt and vanished into the dust cloud. Nothing for five weeks straight, but it's suspicious."

"Central Park West been havin' problems though," one of Armin's companions spoke gruffly. "They been havin' trouble keepin their gate shut up. Nothing comes through but they be talking about blowin it."

"That wouldn't solve anything. Whatever is opening it would just find another way around, and then there'd be no escape route." Chekov pursed his lips with downturned eyes. "These are dark times. Dark times."

Nikkoll stood by the watch fire and took his opportunity to address Armin in the quiet. "You didn't by any chance see anyone run by you down there? Someone wearing combat boots?"

Armin looked up at Nikkoll as if sizing him up, he was a little young for a sentry afterall. "No," he shook his head, "no one passed us since the number three transfer, and there aren't any side passages to get here. Why?"

"Some bum ran from the checkpoint down to the six hundred," clarified Chekov. "Nicky here was getting ready to go hard-charging after him."

"I was n—"

"Oooh bad move," Armin interjected before Nikkoll could protest. "Twas a brave soul then who accosted you and chose the six hundred line over arrest, or a sick one. Maybe a schitzo?"

"Them sounded like good boots brother," Leto yelled from on the barricade. "Good enough for a bum to get done in over."

"A looter then. Let the tunnel have him, good riddance." Chekov lit another smoke for himself with a quick hand.

All was quiet for a while as the sentries retreated inward with their thoughts, staring long and waveringly into the watch fire. Chekov eventually broke away from his introspective monologue and headed for the wire.

"Aye, Leto! I've got to drain the damn and flood the river. Keep a sharp eye."

"Okay, but you watch your pee stream out there doesn't do something dangerous."

"_tsk tsk _Leto, you and Nicky both worry too much." Chekov moved the razor wire aside and walked ten paces into the tunnel, still illuminated by the watch fire, unzipping his fly.

Armin remained by the watch fire and studied the young sentry next to him. "How long have you been out here son?"

Nikkoll shrugged. "About a month."

"You like it?"

"Yes. It's better than farm duty at least."

Armin grunted. "And have you seen anything odd in the tunnels this past month? Anything out of the ordinary besides looters and miscreants?"

Nikkoll again shrugged. "No, not that I can think of—"

"Think hard, real hard kid."

A certain seriousness seemed to slit Armin's voice, and he realized that his other two companions were also staring at him sidelong, as if expecting something. He swallowed a lump in his throat and thought for another minute.

"It's nothing really…"

"_Nothing_ is nothing."

"Well…shadows. There are these shadows that move without bodies. I shine a light on them and they dissipate, but I can never find what's making them. And what's odd is that they'll appear everywhere, on the roof, the walls, they got as far as the barricade once and my blood just felt like ice. It was scary, really scary, but I know it's just the dark playing tricks."

"Aye," Armin nodded, "the dark does play tricks on a wavering mind. Many a man have gone mad in the crushing black, it seems to show you who you really are. Travelers feel eyes on them as they traverse the lines, then the urge to look back overpowers them, and suddenly they're looking back constantly over and over again. We find them running blindly into the next station catatonic with terror. It's the fear that ensnares you like a beast, and too many have died." Armin shook his head gravely. "Too, too many have died needlessly in the dark."

"Hey Chekov! What are you breaking the world record for taking a leak? You've been out there long enough to piss two gallons already, come back!"

But the massive form of the man did not stir, didn't move from his spot, just stood there ridged and stone pinching his fly, staring out into the tunnel. Leto called again, and still no response.

By now the others by the watch fire had become aware and crept up to the barricade with rifles in hand. Nikkoll was about to call out to the man but Armin's hand shot up to silence him. Then he and his companions exchanged glances, and all became deathly quiet. Someone chucked a pebble at Chekov, it hit him on the back bouncing off his Kevlar vest. Then, like a slow fall, the hulking body of the man fell face first to the ground. Stone dead, everyone froze.

"The lights Leto!" Armin whispered while everyone else held their rifles eye level, safety's off. Leto hurried to turn on the searchlight shining a blinding beam straight into the tunnel. Suddenly, a scream.

A screech like a subsonic jet stream, so loud it could shatter glass, pierced the eardrums of the men at arms as dark shapes flooded the tunnel from the six hundred line. Everyone opened fire.

Shard bullets ripped into black flesh as the shapes poured toward the onslaught. These shadows definitely had bodies, humanoid vestiges covered in black slime flung arm-like appendages out in a ravenous trek toward the barricade. The searchlight blared in their eyes that did not squint, horrible white balls that stared unblinking into the glare as such that would make anyone in the subway go blind. Black bodies waddling, sloughing, hurtling mindlessly towards the barricade.

Nikkoll unloaded an entire clip into the mass while one man jumped up into the machine gun nest. He flipped off the safety yelling as he spewed a wave of .50 caliber slugs into the screaming tunnels, but the creatures kept advancing. A wave of shadows swept over the barricade pulling the machine gun man out of the nest. He screamed as he was dragged back into the tunnel while thrashing sounds ensued.

Armin grabbed Nikkoll and ran back toward the four hundred line. Leto and the other men abandoned the barricade as dark creatures swept over like a plague, barreling after them in shrieking horror. Armin's man tripped and was dragged back into the darkness, but there was no stopping as they ran at breakneck speed, firing blind-shots frantically over their shoulders.

Lights ahead and the four hundred yard barricade greeted them with a row of flamethrowers and flood lights. Armin, Leto and Nikkoll flew into the barricade as the sentry guards unleashed a barrage of flames and high-powered halogen lights into the tunnel. The monstrous screeches hailed the coming of a vengeful demon, wailing like a banshee in high-pitched agony like a thousand nails on a chalk board. The smell of singed, mortified flesh flooded the nostrils of the sentries who held the triggers of flamethrowers fast regardless, until all that could be heard was the fuming of burning napalm from the nozzles.

The flamethrowers let up but the floodlights remained trained into the now empty tunnel, where burned limbs cracked and cackled on the tunnel floor. They had taken their dead.

Armin and Nikkoll fell to the ground gasping for air in the putrid passage, while Leto huddled with his back to the barricade, clutching his knees and sobbing.

"Dustmen don't wear boots. Dustmen don't wear boots. Dustmen don't wear boots."


End file.
